


Beyond the Armor

by sohardtopickaname



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Trying to make sense of 08x04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 08:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18847612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohardtopickaname/pseuds/sohardtopickaname
Summary: Jaime's thinking process as he lies awake next to sleeping Brienne.





	Beyond the Armor

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to interpret that uneasy look of Jaime's after their first night together. This may not be a comfortable read.

_It was a mistake_. The thought was ugly, and he was desperately trying to push it out of his head, but it lingered there, growing in size and crawling in circles, until nothing else remained.

Brienne was asleep, her shoulders broad and pale, her hair messy and greased with recent sweat, her face solemn. Just a woman.

He first felt a spark of admiration when she killed those Stark men. They were stupid and poorly trained, yet there were three of them and only one of her. She didn’t even seem to have gotten scared, she just _dealt with them_ , quickly and efficiently. “I don’t serve the Starks,” – she spat afterwards, towering over him, blonder than any Lannister alive or dead, unexpected fire raging in her sapphire eyes. `

He has never seen her weak, not once, however hard he tried to tease her into weakness. When she jumped on her feet in the tub, more than six feet of blindingly white skin enveloping a pulsing bundle of muscle and strength, he was barely able to find words to apologize to her – and common sense to turn his hips away and conceal his excitement.

She looked her best in the armor, of course, perhaps because only when armored could she embrace her strength fully, to hold her head high. When armored, she moved somewhat slowly and heavily, and that was the most graceful movement he had ever seen.

She was brutally, unapologetically beautiful when fighting. And on that day in the Dragonpit, when she grabbed his shoulder with such a force that his entire body turned, and told him to fuck loyalty. Cersei looked so small, so weak next to her. Pathetic.

He dreamed of her for years. If he could just see beyond the armor, if she would just let him. He trembled at the mere thought of it.

When she stood up during the trial, before him, as if shielding him from the danger dancing in the eyes of the Dragon Queen, he almost lost it. He watched her in awe, wanting only to fall on his knees and pledge his heart and his sword to her for the rest of his life.

He thanked Gods for the length of his tunic, it saved him from embarrassment when he was touching her shoulders with his sword while she knelt before him the night before the battle.

They fought as if they were one and the same, sensing danger to the other and just knowing when help was needed. He felt relief whenever he was able to save her from a fatal blow but he felt _joy_ whenever she was able to do that for him. The dead kept coming in hordes, everyone knew it was all a hopeless effort, and yet he had never felt so protected before, so _not alone_.

When the battle ended, he immediately knew that he wanted her. He wanted her to be his entirely, her arms wrapped around him, no, _her whole body wrapped around his_ , the fire raging in her sapphire eyes.

And she let him in. She took off his shirt with her own hands, and he barely managed to stay conscious and watch her take off her own shirt too, to finally kiss her mid-sentence, as if he only had a moment before the world would fall apart.

And fall apart it did. She was tender, awkward, and vulnerable. Of course, it made sense, she was a virgin, after all. She wanted to follow his lead. She wanted to learn. There was hope in her eyes instead of fire. He knew that look. She gave herself to him entirely, and that felt just wrong. It felt as if a heavy stone was dropped on his shoulders and he had to carry it from now on, _forever_.

He saw beyond the armor. He shouldn’t have. There was a woman there, pale-skinned and homely, and she didn’t even look that big anymore. He didn’t know that woman. He didn’t want to know her.

Brienne was asleep, her shoulders broad and pale, her hair messy and greased with recent sweat, her face solemn. Jaime was awake, his shoulders scarred and stooping, his hair mostly gray, his face sober.

 _It was probably just because it was the first time_.

_The hope in her eyes was gut-wrenching._

_It was probably just because she had been drinking._

_It would take about twenty days on a good horse to get to King’s Landing_.


End file.
